


Galaxy Ford

by dietpitt



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Allusion to Rick & Morty, Astronomy, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Ford helps you with your homework, Ford's Sweater, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, NetFix and Chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24764809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dietpitt/pseuds/dietpitt
Summary: Astronomy is cool, but with such a good tutor, it's easy for both of you to get distracted.
Relationships: Ford Pines/Reader, Stanford Pines/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 82





	Galaxy Ford

**Author's Note:**

> Redux of the first fic I ever posted to tumblr. Was written for a mutual, and heavily inspired by sovonight's Soft Fords.
> 
> Originally posted 2.16.16

Studying was an absolute _drag_.

Or at least, that’s what you used to think before the particular person with whom you were currently studying with came into your life. Stanford Pines was a lot of things, and a brilliant tutor was one of them- though those two words didn’t quite go together perfectly. Brilliant was a given of course, but Ford seems to understand things in a different way from you and the subjects came so easily to him, which could lead to a lot of frustration on both sides. Sometimes he even answered the questions _you_ gave _him_ to ask _you_ , himself! Like he was trying to prove how smart he was. As if you could _possibly_ not know.

However, as your loving boyfriend (he still reddened at the term), he was happy to help you prepare for exams and delve into the realm of knowledge, though he personally could do with more challenging material. But who better to help you than him? After all, physics were the man’s "thing".

“Name the different types of nebulae.”

Smiling, you sit back, relieved that Ford was finally giving you the question in a way you can better understand instead of complicating it with his own “more accurate” spin on it. He’s been helping you for about three hours now; papers and books are splayed out around the two of you, and since moving from the kitchen table to the carpet of Ford’s room, you're finally able to give your legs a much-needed stretch.

“Well, the stricter definition of nebulae categorizes them as celestial bodies composed of strictly gas and dust. I know those, but I’m a little iffy on those that aren’t so much classified as nebulae anymore.”

Ford beams proudly. “Go ahead and name those, then.” He shifts the textbook in his lap, then pushes up the sleeves of his soft sweater to his elbows. You can't help but glance at his toned arms for a second, before he clears his throat and speaks again. “However many you can.”

“Okay, galaxies were considered nebulae….” you muse, taking the pen from the corner of your mouth and instead tapping it as you thought. “ And of course there are dark, emissions, planetary, and reflection nebulae.”

“Very good,” Ford crosses the bullet-point off of the list of material to quiz you on. “This particular book also includes globular and open clusters in that category, as well as supernova remnants.”

Your brows furrow, “What? Really?” You scoot close, peering to where he was pointing at the wall of text. “Shoot, I forgot that…”

“Not to worry, your other book has the classification as you stated,” he assures you with a look. “This textbook, however, is almost as old as me. No wonder the information is different.”

A light laugh escapes the both of you before your head falls to Ford's shoulder, catching a whiff of his calming smell; it tempts you to abandon your studies in favor of nuzzling into him...

But Ford sighs, rubbing the back of his head and muttering, “It’s quite incredible- all the advances and new discoveries I’ve missed. I’ve been to dozens upon dozens of dimensions and learned about more universes than many scholars could even comprehend, yet I feel now that I know so little about my own.” You know that look in his eye-- he's dejected, lost in thought behind that thick metal skull.

Ford's pride in his knowledge of the galaxy _you_ know was somewhat hindered upon returning to the current dimension. He'd missed so many discoveries as they broke, so many innovations he'd liked to hoave expanded upon.... you assumed he felt like he should have here there for it, or even discovered a few on his own first.

“But that just leaves more for you to discover and learn! Technological and scientific advancements, especially space-related ones, are being made constantly, Ford. NASA itself can hardly keep up,” you laugh, gingerly rubbing his shoulder. “Besides, it’s nice for me to be able to teach you something every once in a while-- that’s not pop-culture or internet related, that is.”

He scoffs. “What are those goons at the classification board doing? Pluto is obviously not a planet! They can’t simply _change it_ when no contradicting evidence has been found!”

“Obviously they had to change it back due to backlash. Have to keep the people happy,” you tease.

Ford huffs, muttering a “ _ridiculous”_ , under his breath as he comes back to look over your notes absently. “You know, I visited a dimension where the Plutonian ruler used Pluto’s planetary status as a means to hide its destruction from his people. It was being destroyed by mining and Pluto began to shrink! The-“ His babbling stops, wide grin falling a bit at your wide eyes and confused expression.

“I’m sorry- _what_?”

“Er, nevermind-“

“No!” you practically jump into his lap, grabbing his shoulders in your excitement. “You _have_ to tell me!”

Laughing his hands cover your own as he replies, “I’ll elaborate some other time. It’s a long story. And at the moment, I believe we still have a few points to address from your study guide…”

You groan childishly, slumping against him to show your disappointment, cheek smushing into his chest. “Fine, Ford… but you have to tell me eventually. That's ridiculous.”

“I promise, I will.” He gleams, patting your head.

Ford loves telling you about his less traumatic ventures while dimension-hopping for the past 30-odd sum years. Those he could go on about easily- hell, he can even get laughs out of them too! A nice change of pace from the... darker tales which he would only recall if necessary, or desired to share them with someone as close to him as you are.

“Good. Well then, Einstein, go ahead and quiz me some more,” you sit up and intertwine arms, “preferably some questions about the physical properties and stuff. I’m kind of worried about those parts.”

“Alright, darling,” You feel a sweet kiss on the top of your head before Ford turns his attention back to the textbook and stacks of graphs still lying skewed on his lap. “In regards to the space-time continuum and the 4th dimension …”

* * *

Another hour passes and your attention is starting to wander, busying your fingers by picking at the tiny bits of lint caught on the side of Ford’s sweater. He calls your name with a mock-stern tone.

“Hmm?”

“I’m not the one who needs to recite the properties of the logarithmic magnitude scale, dear. Are you paying attention?”

You don't meet his eye, guilty grin sneaking onto your lips. “To be honest, I kind of got distracted by your voice… and I’m a bit studied-out." His fingers find your chin and tilt up to meet his similarly distracted gaze, and it sends a wave of warmth through your chest.

“I-I really do appreciate you reading to me though! Usually it helps me concentrate on what you’re saying but I think I need a break. I’m sorry.”

He takes your hand, giving it a light squeeze. “No need to apologize. You’ve been doing so well! We can be done for today.” He smiles, removing his glasses and pinching the sore bridge of his nose. “I’m actually quite tired myself. It’s getting late.”

You run your fingers through his hair for a moment, before speaking again. “You wanna watch an episode of _Cosmos_ before bed?”

“I don’t think I can watch the whole thing without falling asleep,“ Ford sighs.

“The next episode is about Michael Faraday,” you whisper in a playful, sing-song voice.

“…I’ll get the popcorn, you set up NetFix?”

“It’s ‘Netflix’, sweetie.”

“Oh, whatever.”

**Author's Note:**

> dietpitt.tumblr.com/post/139644026435/galaxy-ford-gender-ambiguous-reader-x-stanford


End file.
